Seungmin was still curled up on the couch, his body trembling violently as he sobbed into himself, clutching his ears, trying—desperately—to block out the sound of the crash still ringing in his head. But it wouldn't stop. No matter how tightly he pressed his hands against his ears, no matter how much he tried to ground himself, it was still there.
The sound wouldn't stop.
The screech of brakes, the blaring horn, the echo of crumpling metal—louder, louder, louder.
He was there again.
Trapped in the car.
The one from six years ago.
The one that had changed everything.
The impact had slammed into him all over again, knocking the air from his lungs. The glass shattered, the shards embedding deep into his throat and chest, sending sharp, searing pain through his small frame. He could feel the blood trickling down, warm and sticky, soaking into his clothes.
Pain.
He couldn't breathe.
The air smelled of gasoline and smoke, thick and suffocating. His tiny hands grasped at his seatbelt, but his fingers were slick with blood, shaking too much to move properly.
"E-Eomma...?" he rasped out, voice barely more than a whisper.
She didn't respond.
His vision blurred, not just from the pain but from the sight in front of him.
His mother—so full of life just moments ago, just laughing with him—was now still. Too still. Her face was turned toward him, coated in blood, streaking down her temple, dripping onto her clothes. Her lips were slightly parted, like she had been about to say something before—before—
Before she was gone.
His father wasn't moving either, slumped against the steering wheel, his head tilted at an unnatural angle.
No.
No, no, no—
Seungmin tried to call for them again, his voice strangled by the shards cutting into his throat. It hurt to breathe, hurt to even whisper, but he still did it, still tried to reach for them with the little life left in him.
"E-Eomma... A-Appa... please..."
But they wouldn't wake up.
The pain in his chest became unbearable, the weight of the wreckage, the smell of burning rubber, the flashing red and blue lights that finally arrived too late—everything was crushing him.
His breath came in shallow, wheezing gasps. His throat was burning and every inhale felt like swallowing broken glass, but he still called for them, still tried.
And even as blood gurgled up his throat, spilling past his lips in sickening, crimson-streaked coughs, even when the slightest sound he made felt like he was being stabbed from the inside, a raw, desperate sob tore from his lips, begging to bring back what had already been stolen from him forever.
The flashing red and blue lights outside the wreckage cast shadows across his parents' faces, but they didn't wake up.
They never would.
"Seungmin!"
A different voice, urgent and panicked.
He flinched.
"Seungminnie, hey, please look here." His mom's voice—no, not his mom, but still warm, still familiar, trying to reach him. Hands grasped his shoulders, firm yet gentle, shaking him just enough to ground him.
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𝕄𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕞𝕖 𝕗𝕖𝕖𝕝 𝔸𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕖 || 𝟚𝕞𝕚𝕟
Fanfiction...I want to feel happy... ...I want to feel loved... "Can you make me feel alive?" 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ In which Kim Seungmin and Lee Minho, though appearing to be fine on the outside, are dying from within. Both have closed themselves off in different ways, an...
